To Breathe Again
by SapphireShelle91
Summary: A re-write of Deadlocked (book 12) ending scene/s from Sam's POV; It was the queerest feeling in the world, dying. His heart simply decided it no longer needed to beat, his lungs no longer required air and his brain had no more use to function and all the pain in his body disappeared. It was all quite simple really, letting go and dying. Only her screaming his name as he died hurt.


**Author's Note:** I've been going threw my USB of late, over my old fanfics and stumbled upon my Southern Vampire Mysteries fanfic folder. I've got around ten completed fanfics sitting in there, waiting to see the light of day or at least the light of the internet.  
I know a lot of Sookie Stackhouse readers are not big Sookie/Sam fans (or not at all), which makes me quite sad because I've always felt that these two were by far the sweetest couple in the whole series; they have such a beautiful friendship and overall their relationship was golden, the high-light of the series for me. They have been one of my all time OTP since I was about fourteen, so I've shipped them together for basically ten years.

 _ **Disclaimer:**_ Obviously I am not Charlaine Harrie, I'm just borrowing some of her wonderful characters and re-wrote scenes from her fantastic books from different POVs.

Please enjoy and reviews are appreciated.

* * *

 **To Breathe Again**

Sam was dying. He knew that. His brain was perfectly able to comprehend this in amongst his terror and the darkness that was beginning to consume everything. It was all rather of obvious with the amount of blood around him. But knowing and accepting were two entirely different things altogether.

He knew there was nothing anyone could do the moment the sword slit his throat and he crumbled to the ground with Jannalynn looking down at him with a look that could only be described as shock before she was dragged out his vision.

A part of him, a vague and small part of him that has the energy to feel malicious hopes that she is distraught to be the one to deal him the killer blow, that she was the one responsible for his death. But this part of him was very small and easy to ignore, his mind too focused on the blood spurting from his throat and the next breath that struggled to keep his heart beating.

Still, just because he knew all of these things, it didn't make accepting his impending death any easier. He didn't want to die, there was still so much he wanted to do, to see and there was still…

He could hear screaming nearby, a woman's scream, not Jannalynn, but someone else who was, though he would not admit (and couldn't admit it now anyway), far more precious to him than Jannalynn had ever been.

She was screaming out his name over and over again with such horror and grief that he loathed himself for causing her such pain.

She was by his side, blue eyes desperate and filled with tears, horrified screams of his name still tearing from her lips as she stared down at him. He could see in her eyes that she knew that he was dead, that it was only a matter time before he died. He saw the horror and grief fill her face as this realization sunk in deeper.

He tried to speak words of reassurance to her, and when that failed, tried simply thinking them to her but even that was a struggle as his world darken only to her, her lips moving soundlessly as she looked over her shoulder, her hands moving to his neck, to press against his terrible wound and maybe try and stop the blood that flowed like a thick, red river from it. But the moment her finger brushed the skin of his neck he felt himself go.

It was the queerest feeling in the world, dying. His heart simply decided it no longer needed to beat, his lungs no longer required air and his brain had no more use to function and all the pain in his body disappeared. It was all quite simple really, letting go and dying. Only her screaming his name as he died hurt.

It hurt because for just that moment she was his. For just that moment he was the center of her universe. For just that moment they were the only things that matter in either one of their worlds. For just that one moment...

The darkness swallowed his vision and he was blinded by it momentarily. His eyes (did he even still have eyes? He was dead after all) soon adjusted to the darkness, spying a light nearby. If he were still alive, he might have found the irony in this, but as he was dead he simply headed towards it, grinning when a recognizable figure suddenly materialized before him, glowing brightly in the path of the light.

It had been a long time, too long since he had last seen his Dad, who looked much like he had during Sam's teenaged years; the same wiry, tangled mess of reddish blonde hair that Sam himself had inherited, bright blue eyes and friendly smile, broad shoulders and ever fidgeting hands and feet.

He grinned widely at the sight of Sam and waved, beckoning for Sam to join him.

His Dad was soon joined by other members of Sam's family who passed away before him. They were all saying his name and sounded delighted to see him, their face warm and filled with love. He was finally…

' _Sam!'_ this voice was different from the others. It was broken and filled with tears but there was power, such power in that voice.

' _Sam. Live.'_ He felt an odd jolt in his chest and when he looked down; he saw light blazing in the place where his heart was meant to be. It, his heart, gave an unsteady beat.

He looked back at his family, at his Dad. While most of his family looked surprised, his Dad was simply grinning at him even more widely, his bright eyes twinkling.

"Go," his Dad was saying though his voice was more of an echo while her voice spoke to him loud and clear, "Go back to her. She's waiting."

' _Live,'_ her voice was ordering him now, and the pulse of light in his chest grew even more intense, his whole body was now blazing with its brightness.

"Live Sam," his dad was saying with a bright grin as he waved farewell, "live."

' _Live Sam. Live.'_ Her voice was growing stronger, louder and was now all around him, within him, pulling him through the blackness of death and back to life. Back to her, back to Sookie…

If he thought dying was the queerest feeling in the world, it had nothing on coming back to life again. It seemed to take an eternity for his head and body to sort themselves out; for his brain to remember how to make his toes wiggle, for his heart to beat just so without it hurting and that he needed to breath to make his lungs function. It was all surprisingly tiring that he felt he might have rather have stayed dead only he was very glad that he wasn't. Dead that is.

Somewhere above him he could hear a voice whispering, "Thanks, Fintan… Thanks, Gran."

It took another age for him to remember how to open his eyes but he quickly found himself very glad to have worked it out. Because as soon he opened them he saw her, her eyes blazing brilliant blue and filled with tears, her hair a swirling golden mess around her head and sticking to tear-stain cheeks. She was biting down hard upon her full bottom lip but he could still hear the soft noise of barely contained sobs trying to escape her throat.

She was the most devastatingly beautiful creature Sam had ever seen.

"I was dead." It was weird saying it, even weirder seeing her nod, confirming that yeah, he had been. He felt his brain wanting to shut down then. It was simply too overwhelmed by all the crap it had just been put through and decided that the easiest course of action to take was to simply not deal with anything at all.

He ignored his brain's requests to let the whole matter go, for it to be a talk dealt with on a rainy day and pressed on.

"What… how'd you do that?" Because seriously, he had known for her years and not once had she ever mention being able to do this, bring someone back from the dead! And really, in all the years of their friendship he felt that she really ought to have brought up that little fact about herself at least _once_. Because honestly this just wasn't something that you sprang on someone at a time like this!

Had she always been able to do this? Was this a new thing she had simply forgotten to mention to him? Or was this a one-time-only thing?

"Tell you later." She finally promised, rubbing the back of her hand against her nose. He noticed that she still had a hand resting over his heart, her fingers twitching along with the beat of his heart.

"You…" because he just can't… he just can't let it go. She brought him back from the _dead_ and she wanted to talk about it _later_? "You can _do_ that?"

"Not again," she said softly, her tone full of warning, her eyes stern. If she wasn't still fighting back tears, he might have thought that she was angry with him, "that's it. You got to stay alive from now on." She had tried to sound light and teasing but the effect was ruined by a sob that finally broke free, causing for a fresh bout of tears to roll down her face.

"Okay," he whispered, numbly feeling for her hand that was still lying over his chest, "I promise."

She smiled down at him threw her tears before leaning over to give his forehead a kiss. They stayed like this for Sam wasn't sure how long, him lying still in his own blood, her kneeling in his blood beside him, hand over his heart, her other holding his. She never looked away from him, every time he opened his eyes she was there staring back at him, watching every breath he took, every movement he made.

"I think…" and when he tried to sit up, she was immediately there helping him, an arm looped around his waist.

He could hear the Weres around them but he paid them no heed as he struggled to his feet, only focusing on Sookie's arms around him, holding him up and stopping him from falling.

He had to stand completely still for a moment, simply gasping in air and processing what it felt like to stand. He could feel her eyes on him, watching him process everything but not intruding into his mind. He wondered vaguely what she would hear from his head if she were to listen in to it right now.

They moved slowly as one, her arms around his waist, his arm thrown over her shoulder while his other massaged his beating heart. They passed the body of a headless woman and for a moment his brain was blank as to who she was before it all came rushing back. Or tried to, his brain immediately slammed all thoughts regarding _her_ into a vault to the back of his mind to deal with later. He couldn't process her or her death right now. Instead, he just focused of his next step and the warmth of Sookie by his side. And her smell.

God, she had never, not once, smelled to him like she did just now. She was intoxicating. He wondered if it was her fairy blood bleeding through stronger now because of whatever magic she had used to bring him back. If that was the case, then she had might need to watch out for Eric. The last thing they, or rather he needed, was for the Viking vampire getting high off having Sookie smelling like a fairy.

He scented the air, his nose having to fight to smell something other than Sookie but it was quick to identify that Eric was not around and hadn't been for a while. He thought for a brief moment of mentioning this to Sookie before quickly thinking better of it. He had just died, he really didn't need (or want) the larger than life Viking hanging around him and Sookie. But still he was curious, if only for Sookie's sake. But he had no energy for words as of yet, walking was appearing to be enough of a chore as it was.

He immediately missed Sookie's warmth when she buddle him up into his trunk, the passenger side not the drivers. He did try to say something about being able to drive, but Sookie simply gave him a look that told him to not worry about it and started his truck with ease.

He watched as she drove his truck in silence, watching as her face drew into a deep frown of concentration as she worked between driving an unfamiliar vehicle and trying to remember her way back down the country road towards home.

"Where'd Eric go?" he finally asked. He had the energy to have a conversation now, even if it was one that involved Eric. Sookie's eyes flickered toward him for a brief moment before they looked back at the road.

"I don't know." She admitted after a moment, "He left in a hurry. Without speaking." She shrugged but he knew her well enough to know she was, at least a little bothered by the damn Viking disappearing on her.

"Kind of abrupt." He thought he vaguely remembered hearing, while he was dying, Eric's voice calling out Sookie's name. And maybe there was a moment, after he had come back to life that he had seen the Viking leaning over Sookie's shoulder as she leant over him.

"Yeah…" Sookie replied slowly and he waited patiently, knowing that if he gave her a few moments, even if they were a little awkward, of silence she would come around to telling him what had happen between her and the big, bad, blonde vamp.

"Okay," she said finally, "You heard about Freyda. I figured he's going to go with her."

Ouch.

"Oh," he wasn't really sure how to react to that. Neither did Sookie, whose lips were pursed and her eyes set firmly on the road in front of them.

"Oh," she continued on firmly, "So he knew I had this thing. This magic thing that I used on you. And I guess he thought it was kind of a test of my love."

Oh… wait, for who? For Eric or for… no, his brain was going to have to deal with that later too. He gave his head a shake and focused on Sookie and instead said,

"He expected you to use it to save him from this marriage,"

"Yeah. Evidently." The she sighed, it was a very sorry little sound and it made his chest hurt for her, "and I kind of expected him to tell her to go to Hell. I guess I thought of it as a test of his love."

"What do you think he'll do?"

"He's proud." She said tiredly, "I can't worry about it right now. The most I can hope is that Felipe and his crew leave for home and we get some peace."

"And Claude and Dermot are gone, to Faery."

"Yep, their own land."

"They'll be back?"

"Nope. That was the idea, anyway. I guess JB is out of a job, unless the new management of Hooligans wants him. I don't know what'll happen to club now." And she sounded too tired to truly care at the moment.

"So everything has changed in the past few days?" so many things in so many ways. Sookie let out a little laugh and they fell into a comfortable silence. He wasn't sure where she was taking him; she could be taking him to Hell for all he knew. And really the idea of her taking him to Hell should of bother him far more than it did but at the moment he found he would happily follow this woman anywhere, if she simply asked him.

Thankfully, she only appeared to have brought him to her house.

"Sookie…" he started slowly as she started helping out of his truck. "I can…"

"Hush," she ordered him, looping his arm around her shoulders before wrapping her arms around his waist, "I'm not taking you and leaving you in your trailer while you're like this. Please Sam, don't argue with me. Just stay tonight and I promise that I won't say a word of objection if you decide to work tomorrow night."

Liar… she would too. Many words actually but he was too tired to point this out, simply allowing her to pull him along into her house and into the small, spare bedroom that he knew used to be her own before her grandmother died.

She sat him down on the bed before his legs gave out on him and he had to fist his hands against his thighs to keep them from trembling. He watched her silently as she knelt down in front of him, helping him take of his shoes.

It took all his self-control not to call out to her to come back when she left the room, his heart only returning to a normal rhythm when she came back with a glass of water. She sat down beside him and rubbed his back in a soothing fashion as he drank the full contents of the glass.

"What it's called," he asked as his eyes grew heavy and his body and mind longed for sleep, "the magic thing you used to save me. What was it called?"

"a cluviel dor." She replied softly, running a hand over his hair, her fingers gently playing with his curls. She coaxed him into lying down on the bed and pulled the sheets and covers over him once he had settled.

He heard her leave again before she was once more by his side with another full glass of water which she set down upon the bedside table near his head. Then she was leaving again, this time for the night.

"Sookie," he spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully. He desperately just wanted to sleep but he also wanted his question answered before sleep claimed him. "You have to tell me what the cluviel dor is all about. How you made it work." It might be bit much for both of them for her to explain this tonight but at least the question was out there for Sookie to know that he was thinking it over. He heard her shift awkwardly by the doorway before she replied in a quiet voice, "Sure Sam. Another day."

And that was the last thing he heard before sleep over took him


End file.
